When the Stars Fall

When the Stars Fall

By C.K. Blake

ONE: Weak and Powerless

The black boots slapped crudely on the pavement as the boy gathered his tattered black robes in his hands and put forth an extra burst of energy. He was running for his life. Never had he run so far or so fast as he ran at those crucial moments. One of his boots caught on a square of uneven pavement and sent him stumbling to his knees, his hands scraped the pavement as he tried to limit his contact with the ground. He stumbled up as quickly as possible and took off running again.

Something slowed him down however. He felt as though he were being pulled toward his right. He stopped suddenly, and turned toward the direction that beckoned him. Across the street was a modest house with black wooden shutters and a powder blue door. He was being drawn toward the house; safety was there. Again, he gathered his robes, grasped his aching side, and managed to cross the street. He was exhausted as he climbed the three stone steps leading to the powder blue door. He weakly lifted his hand, knocked on the door, and then unconsciousness took him as his body slumped against the powder blue door and sank to the three stone steps.

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There was a knock at the door, she was sure of it. Her parents were out for the day, and she wasn't expecting anyone, but the knock still evoked her curiosity. She went to the door, looked out of the peephole, and saw...no one there. She almost walked away, dismissing the knock as a prank, but she had a feeling that she had to open the door. As she pulled open the door something fell into the doorway. The girl looked down at the dirty, pale, ragged, unconscious, platinum blond boy. She got him inside as best she could, and then shut the door. She rolled him over, so that he was lying on his back, his platinum blond hair wild and messy, and her jaw dropped as she realized whom the boy was.

"Malfoy!" she gasped.

She quickly recovered her senses and ran up to her room to retrieve her wand. When she returned downstairs she did the unthinkable, a transportation spell to her room, which left a ragged, dirty, unconscious Malfoy on her bed. She shook her head in disbelief, never in a million years would she have given precedent to the thought of Draco Malfoy at her front door, let alone in her bed.

She sighed, went to the bathroom, got a wash cloth, ran it under the cold tap water, rang it out, brought it back to her room, and began to wash Malfoy's sweaty, grimy face. She put her hand to his forehead, and he was burning up with fever. Once his face was relatively clean, she took his boots off of his feet, and then removed his robes, leaving him in a pair of black silky boxers. She blushed furiously at Malfoy's exposed form, and found that she greatly admired his physical beauty.

She shook herself. "Get a grip, Granger! You're Muggle born, and he's Malfoy. You do remember that absolute bane of your existence at Hogwarts!"

But they weren't at Hogwarts, and Malfoy, obviously in a great deal of trouble, was in the Granger household, more specifically in Hermione's bedroom. She couldn't suppress the small smile that played across her lips as she realized that he would owe her big now, after all, she could have left him out on her doorstep. Although, deep down, she knew she would have taken him in regardless, because he'd been helpless, and he couldn't be completely evil.

She pulled the sheet and blanket out from under him and then covered him with them. As sweat accumulated on his brow she wiped it away with the damp cloth. He murmured in his fitful sleep, but Hermione couldn't understand what he said. She was tempted to try a few healing charms, but didn't want to use magic unnecessarily outside of Hogwarts. However, when she heard the front door downstairs rattle, he panicked. Picking up her wand, she cast a quick healing spell on him and then a charm on her doorknob that would discourage her parents from entering her room or opening the door, for that matter. She couldn't begin to imagine what her parents would think of a half-naked boy lying unconscious in their daughter's bed.

She heard her father call her from downstairs. She took one final look at her arch nemesis sprawled out in her bed, and then headed downstairs wondering whatever was she going to do.

Downstairs she smiled at the sight of her flushed parents, glad to see them so happy and carefree. She felt guilty for not being able to tell them what (or whom) was in her room, but it was necessary. She smiled and laughed as they told her about their day. They'd done quite a bit of shopping, eaten lunch at a small romantic café, and managed to fit in a visit to the museum.

She was too preoccupied, with her thoughts of what lay upstairs in her bed, to notice the plainly wrapped parcel her father had placed on the sofa.

Eventually the convrsation turned to a discussion of dinner. Hermione found herself in the kitchen with her mother, helping to make a dish of fettuccini alfredo. Soon smells of the wonderful dish filled the house. As her parents sat down at the table she sighed. Her parents gave her a quizzical look as their daughter frowned and then addressed them apologetically.

"Mum, Dad, in all of my reading today, I simply didn't get around to thoroughly examining A History of Alchemy in the Dark Arts, and I really should know that book from cover to cover before returning to Hogwarts. Professor Snape is so hard on Gryffindors, it would be in my best interest to fully explore all of my potions texts so that I may be prepared for one of Snape's famous first day exams," she spoke in a whirlwind.

Her mother's mouth fell open a little as she looked at her studious daughter and answered, "But dear, you've only just begun your Summer holiday. School is months away and you read so quickly. Could it possibly wait?"

"Now, now, pet, wouldn't want Hermione neglecting her studies," Mr. Granger spoke to his wife and winked at his daughter and continued, "Hermione, you may take your dinner upstairs, but before you go, there is a parcel on the sofa. It's for you. Take that with you. Tomorrow I want to know what you think of what's inside it and then your mother and I will tell you the reason we got it for you."

Hermione smiled at her father as she got up, looked down, kissed his cheek, took her plate, and headed toward the parlor, for the parcel and the stairs. She called a thank you over her shoulder, and her parents answered with "Goodnight". Hermione took the parcel and her plate to her room. Once in the safety of her room she put her plate on her mahogany desk and the parcel on her dresser.

She then turned toward the bed, holding her breath; she let it out in a long sigh and looked heavenward. It was real, that whole day. Malfoy was in her bed, sheets and blankets tangled around him. Hermione put a sound proofing charm on her room, then went to the bathroom, bringing back another cool cloth and a glass of water. She had to see if she could wake him and get him to eat something.

Slowly Hermione approached the bed and sat on the edge of it. She put the glass on her bedside table and then turned to Malfoy. She gently ran a hand along his forehead and cheeks, noting that he wasn't as hot and feverish as he had been. She leaned over him, her hair brushing against his face, as she tried to straighten the sheets and blanket around him.

Suddenly a pair of arms grabbed her, the next thing she knew, she was on her back, pinned to the bed with a half naked Draco Malfoy looking panicked and holding her down. The grip he had on her arms was painful and desperate. He looked at his surroundings in confusion, and then turned back to look down at her.

He swallowed thickly, all of his cockiness gone, as he croaked, "Where in the bloody hell am I?"

Hermione cleared her throat and then answered. "You're in my bedroom, and I would greatly appreciate it if you got off of me."

"Granger?" he asked and leaned closer to her, brushing away wild wisps of her hair with his hands.

"Yes, it's me, Malfoy, you twit! Now let me go!" she hissed, and then squirmed trying to free herself.

He leaned back with a grin, that cocky sneer returning to his lips. "Well, well, well, Mudblood, how did I end up in your bedroom in this state of undress?"

Malfoy seemed to have forgotten that he had released one of her arms. She used this to her advantage and brought her hand across his face sharply in a hard slap. His head jerked to the side as he brought his hands to his face. She struggled to get out from under him, clamored up from the bed and edged toward the door. He looked over at her, rage seething in his eyes as he gingerly rubbed his cheek.

"Mind telling me what that was for?" he growled and then looked around. "And how did I end up in here with you?"

"Just how thick can you get? I slapped you because you deserved it! As for you being here? There was a knock on my front door. I opened it and in you toppled filthy and unconscious. I used magic to get you up here, and keep my parents away. Of course, I have no idea why I am going through all of this trouble for the likes of you. Honestly, I think I should have my head thoroughly examined for this lapse in judgment," she snapped.

Realization dawned on Malfoy's face as he looked at her with wide eyes. He looked her over and then turned to her desk carefully taking in the sight of food. His mouth watered as he looked at the plate of pasta.

He sighed. "Should have known a Mudblood like you would live in a house with a ridiculous blue door. However, I am here and being here I demand some form of nourishment."

Hermione rolled her eyes and handed him the plate, the fork on the edge of the plate already had some noodles wrapped within its prongs. Draco took the plate from Hermione and began to wolf down the pasta. Hermione watched in disgusted fascination as he ate her meal and then gulped down the glass of water on her bedside table. When he was finished he put the plate beside the glass of water on her bedside table, not a scrap of food or drop of water left. He got up off the bed and looked around the room with a raised platinum eyebrow and classic Malfoy sneer.

"Not bad, Granger, for a Mudblood's room. Nothing but books. I expected as much from you. Somewhat cluttered and small, but then again, I am accustomed to my spacious quarters at Malfoy Manor. So where am I to sleep?" he asked and then a thought occurred to him, "and how is it that you can perform magic without a reprimand from the Ministry of Magic?"

Hermione's eyes widened, "I found a spell that puts a sort of force field around my house, so that magic cannot be detected within its walls."

"Clever," Malfoy said simply and then continued, "now about my sleeping arrangements?"

"The floor is too good for you," she answered curtly and immediately regretted it.

He smiled wickedly and turned ice blue eyes on her, "Well, in that case the bed is sufficient."

"And where does that leave me? This is my room after all!"

"Very well, we can share the bed, although a bed is too good a comfort for a Mudblood," he answered.

Hermione nearly choked. "Me share my bed with you?"

"You should be honored to bed with a pureblood. As you have mentioned the floor is readily available," he suggested.

"Oh, you're insufferable!"

He smirked. "A compliment from you? I am surprised."

"Stuff yourself Malfoy!" she challenged.

Darkness blazed in his eyes as he crossed the room to her. He grasped her shoulders, preparing to shake her, but instead he grew faint and fell against her swooning. Her back was pressed against the door while she supported him. As the dizzy spell ended he took a step back, but lost his balance, landing him full on his rear. Hermione knelt before him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her fury burning bright in his cold eyes.

"Are you enjoying this Mudblood?"

Hermione blanched at the name-calling, but still she helped him up and he grudgingly took her help. She helped him to her bed and fussed over the pillow before insisting that he lay back on it. He raised a platinum eyebrow at her in response. She merely ignored his facial expression. Once he was settled back in, his eyes wandered over to the mahogany dresser. He noticed the parcel.

"Thought I would stay awhile so you got me clothes?" he asked curiously indicating the simply wrapped parcel.

She glared at him. "No, I was hoping you were some sort of nightmare. It's something my parents got for me while they were out today."

Her face reddened in embarrassment. Why was she explaining anything to Malfoy? Closing her eyes she grew still redder as she recalled removing Malfoy's robes. He watched her curiously, wondering what was wrong with her. It appeared as though she were looking down at the floor as an excuse to use her hair to obscure her face. Something was certainly amiss. He ran his eyes over her, drinking her in. It suddenly occurred to him that she was beautiful. Her long wavy light brown hair, her sun touched honey colored skin, and those soft toffee colored eyes of hers. He took a deep breath and shook himself. She was Muggle born; still she possessed certain qualities that held his attention.

He scowled when he realized that she was looking at him. It appeared as though wheels were turning in her head, as her toffee brown gaze met his cool blue eyes. Something sparked, some sort of challenge. Whatever occurred from then on was a challenge. Both of them were aware of that fact, and neither was willing to back down in the face of a challenge. It was Draco who broke the silence.

"So, shall we see what gifts these Muggles lavish on their Mudblood daughter?"

Hermione raised her chin at him and took the parcel from her dresser. Malfoy patted a spot beside him on the bed, but she took a seat in her desk chair. Malfoy shrugged off her blatant disregard of his invitation as she untied the string and opened the parcel. Her eyes widened in surprise and delight, and Draco felt something like warmth flow through him, but he quickly squashed that thought.

He was curious to know what could make the little Muggle born witch so happy, so that he could come up with an appropriate insult about the gift. She slowly removed a long lavender silk evening gown from the parcel. The boy's mouth went dry when he thought of how she would look in it.

The girl was so stunned by her parent's gift that, for a moment, she forgot that her arch nemesis was present. She stood, held the gown against her body, and whirled around the room, just like any girl caught up in a fancy. Draco was certainly surprised at witnessing Hermione Granger acting like...well, a girl. He watched her in mute fascination, admiring her beauty, lithe build, and curves. She certainly had grown into a beauty.

Draco finally cleared his throat, shattering the girlish moment that had taken hold of Hermione. Her face flushed crimson, as she grew painfully aware that she'd been blushing a lot around Malfoy. She noticed how his eyes roamed over the silk gown and she braced herself for a biting comment from him, but the comment she expected never came.

Instead he said, "Try it on. Let's have a peek at how you would look in it."

Her eyes widened in shock, but she cast that off and then headed toward the door that led to her bathroom, but his voice stopped her.

"No, I meant that you try it on in here. You aren't shy are you, Granger? I believe that it is safe to assume that you were the one to disrobe me. It is only fair that I be given the same privilege."

Hermione's eyes flamed with anger. "Have you gone out of your head, Malfoy? I would never undress for you!"

A smirk lit across his handsome face. "No Malfoy has ever gone out of their head. Oh, and you would have to undress for me... Or I'm sure that I am quite capable of disrobing you myself."

Her jaw dropped at his audacity. He was most certainly out of his mind. She assured herself that when she went to bed, if he tried anything she would kick him to the floor regardless of the consequences. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Perhaps you would cease to blush if we had a bit of show and tell? Come on, Granger! Look at all you've seen of me. You know I won't leave you alone until I know what you have hidden under that odd tee shirt and those blue jeans. You don't look half bad in jeans, at least for a Mudblood."

Hermione glared at him. "Why must you call me that?"

"It's simply what you are," he answered nonchalantly.

"No, it isn't. I'm a witch, Malfoy, as you are a wizard. I certainly had no choice in my parents, but I adore them both still the same. They are ever so caring and I would never barter them for any pureblood parents. I was rather fortunate in being so lucky. Besides, you can call me by my first name, if you even know what it is," she snapped.

He sighed, "Very well, Hermione, and are you always so exhausting?"

She though for a moment, a finger absently twisting a strand of her curly hair. "No, I am only like this around exasperating Slytherin boys that show up at my door uninvited."

"I assure you, that was no fault of mine," he commented.

"Will you ever stop pestering me?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Not until I see you in that gown, but I want the joy of your discomfort as you change in front of me, and that would be without the use of magic, of course."

"Are you always so cruel? Couldn't you possibly turn around, or leave me to dress in the bathroom?"

"My, but how shy you get in the absence of Potty and Weasel," Draco said.

Hermione bit back her anger and suddenly began looking for her wand, to see if she could teach Malfoy a lesson, however, he was ahead of her. Having judged by the way she was gazing around the room, he knew what she was searching for. He slipped his hand beneath his boxers and produced her wand. Her eyes widened in fear. He was capable of many things while he was in possession of her wand.

"Now, are you to make things easy or difficult? I can be very gentle if you are willing, or I can immobilize you and do with you whatever I wish."

She sighed, knowing she'd been beaten, but fury blazed in her eyes. Whatever he did to her, she would pay him back for. Draco noticed the flare in her eyes and laughed.

"Well, Hermione..." he whispered her name teasingly. "What is it to be?"

Hermione closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and fought to hold in the tears that threatened to fall from her toffee brown eyes. She raised her chin and tried to restrain the sobs from her voice.

"I shall be willing Malfoy, but make no mistake. You're treading on dangerous ground." She managed to sound surprisingly calm.

He nodded in appreciation of the strength she showed in her defeat. His eyes roamed over her again, his fingers itching in anticipation of aiding her in disrobing. He looked down at his hands, noticing that the scrapes were gone. He tilted his head toward her realizing she must have used a healing charm on him. He flexed his fingers and grinned wickedly at the Muggle born witch.